


The Kindest Entrapment

by AmerValk



Series: Dragon Age 2 f!Hawke/Anders One Shots [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Gen, Idiots in Love, Intimacy, Mage Rights
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-18
Updated: 2018-02-18
Packaged: 2019-03-20 13:47:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13718976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmerValk/pseuds/AmerValk
Summary: Anders and Hawke find peace in life, but Justice has many demands. This one shot explores the thought process of Anders as he struggles what he must do for mages and what that means about his life.





	The Kindest Entrapment

_Systemic oppression of mages is maintained by three separate powers. First, and most obviously, by the constant threat of violence and surveillance of the Templars. They watch mages as they sleep, and control their lives from a distance. Many mages are only allowed apostasy, death, or tranquility. The second force is the mages themselves, who trade safety for freedom. The power structure begs complicity and creates a gilded cage where mages are taught to be ashamed of magical gifts they were born with and in some cases, those gifts are used to financially support their oppressors. They are slaves, like those of Tevinter, freedom is never possible for a mage. Nor could it be earned, not as long as the Templars hold the phylactery. Finally, the most insidious system is the Chantry. The religion that has dominated Thedas and taught every young mage to fear their gift. Every mage that has failed their harrowing was not murdered by the Templar, but the Revered Mother that has held the leash of the soldier. When a mage chooses to lose their magic, in order to protect from demons, the Chantry is guilty. The true evil of mages oppression is not just the Templars, or even the mages, but the Circle itself. There will be no true peace, only surrender, until it is broken._

Anders squeezed his fingers, releasing the tension from his joints as he scanned over the passage he had just written. He scrutinized the words with carefully crafted persistence. Anders knew nothing ever written was perfect as he attempted to understand the rallying cry to free the mages for his entire life as he struggled against the divine powers that dominated Thedas. 

'Yes, this is many things,' he thought critically. 

'Eloquent, well-informed, and passionate, but it is lacking,' Anders discerned. A wrinkle appeared above his brow as he frowned. It simply was not enough, not anymore. The weight of the mages oppression bore down on his slender shoulders. He jumped as Hawke massaged his shoulder, in an attempt to soothe his tired mind. He knew better then to press his luck. Lately, Justice had become more intense and demanding and the long hours only made him more vulnerable to his influence. He was not sure where Justice began and vengeance ended. At least he had Firenze, she was his saving grace. Peripherally, he observed the bright red of her hair as it fell in soft waves around her face. When they were both younger, she would spend many nights out with Varric at the Hanged Man until the small hours of the morning. Now, they worked together to free the mages and he was lucky beyond measure that Hawke loved him, supported and protected him without expecation. She was more than his lover, she was comrade. Anders relied on her support a great deal more than Justice preferred.

“It reads well, Anders,” Hawke observed. Her bright eyes scanned the words quickly. It brought her joy to help Anders in any way that she was able. She was by no means a scholar, but she could be his shield and protect him from any harm.

“You are so good with words, I could never imagine being half as eloquent as you,” she praised. Anders blushed at her attentions as Hawke bent to kiss his cheek. Shadows from the fire danced on his face and he leaned into her touch, purring softly.

“I love you Hawke,” he sighed, as her arms wrapped around his shoulders. Anders leaned into Firenze. His head dipped back lazily as she kissed his neck and the sensitive spot just beneath his ear. He shivered as her hands toyed with his chest, pushing aside the layer beneath the feathers and shirt. Her nails just scratched his skin, teasing him with indulgence.

“I love you too, Anders,” she whispered into his ear. He groaned at her attentions, “When you’re done, I’ll be in bed. Don’t be too long love.” Anders focus was shaken as he imagined the things she could do to him in their bedroom. He still felt the tips of her fingers on his skin, tracing the scars. He was softer now, the elements of luxury agreeing with him. For once, his face was full and stomach no longer grumbled. In fact, it distended a bit and made self-conscious. Still, at least his newfound comfort amused Hawke. She was fond of his ‘tummy’ as she called it, and always found a way to tickle his stomach as he attempted to ward her off. Inevitably, he failed to stop Firenze and he wound up laughing regardless. For the first time in many years, Anders was happy. The last time he was this healthy and well-fed was at Vigil’s Keep. After she departed, her warmth and her scent lingered while Anders waited for the words to dry. Before joining Hawke, he paced, thoughtful as the flames of the fire licked the logs.

'Why should I not be content?' Anders thought, feeling Justice's displeasure keenly. He and Hawke were saving the mages, using her influence to protect many, and providing resources for the circles and apostates to rebel. The circle was failing in Kirkwall. Slowly but surely it was being torn down as mages lost faith in the Chantry to protect them from abuses. Most new mages fled Kirkwall, rather than inhabit the Gallows and it was because he and Hawke had given them that chance. 

**‘You are a coward who lives in luxury. You avoid true action and fear the consequences of justice. Tell me, Anders do you treasure what you have, or horde it?’** Anders paled as Justice’s voice rang in his head, bellowing without any gentleness or understanding. 

“I--I am helping the mages, the circle is all but broken here,” Anders remarked defensively, hating how small he felt when Justice became more dominant. He discerned his open disdain.

 **‘And how long until the First Enchanter comes running to the Reverend Mother, asking for compromise. Or until the Knight-Commander declares the Rights of Annulment. The mages need more from you, but you chose to hide behind Hawke’** Anders entire being rejected Justice's words in defiance. His blond hair grew disheveled as he attempted to clear his head. He felt helpless as Justice pressed for greater control. He was unsatisfied with the work that had already been accomplished, as feeble actions of man with struggling resolve. Justice was strong and swift.

“What more can I do?” Anders was at a loss as he considered Justice’s words. Were they correct? Had he lost his way, his vision to save the mages? His life was more now, or was it less? Firenze had taken him in, protected him, and allowed him to share in her abundance. Was all this so wrong? Was he allowed to suffer less while his mages struggled beneath the yoke of oppression?

 **‘Tell me, what happens to your efforts if you simply stop at your half-measures?’,** Justice paused. Allowing the silence to taunt Anders as he felt the mage gather his thoughts. Anders attempted to confine the shaking to his hands as Justice or Vengeance flickered and simmered in his soul. 

**‘Those willing to do more will simply negate your progress. Justice is both sword and shield. One cannot exist without the other. You must strike, make the first move and let the world know that mages will no longer surrender.’** His legs were weak and he could feel the presence of the spirit dominate and fracture his mind. He steadied himself against the mantle and tried to catch his breath.

“What more can I do?” He asked again, begged even. “I am only a human, I can’t single-handedly stop the Chantry, more so than I could take on the Templars alone.” Justice was unrelenting, his spiritual essence could either give Anders strength or force his submission. He trembled as he fought for control of his mind, but Justice would not give in.

 **‘You strike the first blow. Remove the Chantry and take away the ability to compromise. Force the war that is coming regardless of your actions. Show them mages are to be feared, and that they were right to be afraid,’** he commanded. Justice’s presence surged in Anders. He was losing himself to righteous anger as the spirit threatened to take over entirely. There was a ringing in his ears and his mind was faint against it. Then, He fell to the ground, his knees slamming against the stone. The sharp pain forced him out of the struggle as Justice’s presence abated. Sweat sat on his brow as Anders realized that he had no choice now. No matter what he and Firenze shared, they would know no peace together as long as things stayed as they were. Could she follow where he goes? Would she be able to understand what he must do next? This was agony, as he glanced around the estate. He must sacrifice it all, even Hawke, to free the mages. 

Anders steps were heavy. He was uncertain of how much time had passed as he entered Firenze’s bedroom. The candle on her desk had burnt low and she snored quietly. She was perfection itself. Her legs were arranged haphazardly above the sheets It broke his heart as he realized just how much he loved her, and how deeply his choices would hurt them and the life they had built together. The soft light of her candle and embers of the fire as it burnt low illuminated Hawke's skin. She glowed with ethereal grace, like a halo of divinity. For the smallest of moments, the cuts in his mind no longer throbbed and Anders could think clearly once more. He un-linked the chain that kept his feather mantle over his shoulders. He laid the garmet on the chair. It's gray feathers glistened in the dim lighting of the room as Anders unhooked the belts of his robe. His mind was deliberately empty as he performed mundane tasks. It was simpler to sleep as he went through a process that quieted his thoughts. 

Hawke was the reward, as Anders crawled into bed. He did not wish to wake her but could not resist holding her. He wound his arms around her torso as she rolled into his bare chest. The guilt returned to him she woke up from her rest. Regardless, the smile returned to his face as they shared an unspoken intimacy. He kissed her forehead gratefully, happy beyond measure that he could still hold Firenze in his arms and smell the fragrant soap she used to wash her hair before she went to bed.

“ My love, you’re late,” she sighed. Her voice still delicate from the fringes of sleep. She laughed softly and the effect was powerful enough to shake his resolve. As quick as a cat, she captured his lips in a kiss. Her fingers danced along the rough stubble of his jawline as their faces aligned. Her fingers tangled in his hair, drawing him closer as her tongue demanded entrance and she deepened the kiss. 

“I love you Hawke,” he confessed between kisses. She found a whole new way to posses him as the fog stirred from her mind and the corner of her lips peaked into a content grin.

“You have been the one light in my life,” Anders admitted. 

“I love you too, Anders. Always," she intoned. He could feel hear heart beat against his chest as they embraced one another, finding the same passion that brought them together in the first place. Anders was helpless to her advances as tasted and savored him, ignorant of the struggle he had just endured. 

"You’re so romantic tonight,” her voice teased him, as did her fingers as she played with the soft flesh of his stomach. Hawke was achingly close as she tempted him with her wandering fingers.For brief moment, he forgot everything but Hawke as she shifted on top of him. He was imprisoned between her thighs. It was certainly the kindest entrapment Anders had ever known. Even now, as he prepared to sacrifice his own happiness for the cause that had defined his life, making love to Firenze was second nature to him. He cradled her head between his hands, desperate for her. Justice could not take this from him, at least tonight.


End file.
